The dirt-covered pit belched puffs of smoke as the men lifted the soil by the shovelfull, unearthing the well-wrapped carcass of the feral hog Daryl and Michonne had brought back the previous afternoon. They'd decided that, calendar or no, a hog roast was as good a time as any to call it Christmas and take a little time for celebration.
Maggie and Glenn broke out the small CD player that mostly sat idle on a cabinet shelf and found a few disks that could serve for party music, including one actual Christmas album. The hog was quickly cut into manageable pieces, and the meal was made practically Norman Rockwell-traditional by the addition of starchy Jerusalem artichokes, which had been roasted in the pit with the pig. Daryl had spotted a large stand of them late in the summer and flagged them for harvest during the lean winter months.
After a leisurely dinner, the kids having all been packed off to bed, Carol found herself in Rick's arms, slow-dancing to Harry Connick's sultry voice. To her surprise, Rick picked up the lyric and began to sing along. "Ah, but in case I stand one little chance / Here comes the jackpot question in advance / What are you doing New Year's / New Year's Eve?" He leaned back a little, crooking a teasing eyebrow at her, but her eyes were focused over his shoulder to the far corner, where Daryl leaned against the wall with a dark and worried scowl on his face as he watched them dance. "Well, I guess I know the answer to that question, huh?"
Carol ducked her head against his shoulder and shrugged. "Oh, Rick, if only…" He held her a little more tightly and pivoted smoothly, taking Daryl out of her line of sight. He resisted the urge to dip her as the song came to an end, but instead spun her out to the length of his reach, then pulled her back in to give her a quick squeeze and press a kiss to her forehead before letting her go. There were some days when it was all he could do to keep from kicking that idiot redneck's ass up the hall and back.